


Midnight Sea

by not_a_tuna_fish_ish



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angels, Angst, Drinking, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experience, Night, No Beta, One-Shot, Swimming, angst but it get's better, suicidal thoughts lightly implied, the ocean, twitch streams, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28394103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_a_tuna_fish_ish/pseuds/not_a_tuna_fish_ish
Summary: Wilbur sees a biblically accurate angel.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	Midnight Sea

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in one sitting and hardly proofread it, so if there are any mistakes pls let me know.

The sound of the Discord call ringing cut through the night air. Wilbur swayed slightly as he watched his phone screen in his hand.

Tommy let him into the call. 

“Hi Wilbur,” the boy said distractedly. A bunch of other people said hello as well, voices he recognized. He picked out Punz and Tubbo’s voice specifically. 

“I’m at the beach!” Wilbur cried out. He looked around. 

It was very late at night and the sky was pitch dark. The ocean stretched out before him as far as he could see, rolling backwards into an infinite blackness. The horizon barely made itself known and could only be perceived through flimsy fragments of light that cast themselves onto the water from the city behind him. He could barely differentiate between sky and sea. Behind him were apartment buildings and streets that would up to more buildings, and to his right the coastline disappeared behind a twist. To his left he saw a tower in the distance- a lighthouse- and a pier. In the daytime the sight would have been loud and well lit, with flashing neon signs for restaurants and stores and the chatter of salespeople at their booths. But it was all abandoned at this hour. There wasn’t a person around anywhere he could see, with the exception of a sole dockworker minding his own business at the far reaches of Wilbur’s vision. He reeled at the loneliness of the scene. That’s why he decided to call somebody. 

Tommy and friends must have been playing a game or something as they all chattered energetically on the phone. Wilbur was too drunk to tell what it was, though.

“I- I’m at the beach!” He said into the phone again. 

“On your own?” Asked Tommy. 

“Yeah, I’m on me own.”

“Why are you at the beach on your own?” Said the boy. 

“I dunno Tommy I just wanted to be at the beach. It’s freezing though.” 

It _was_ freezing. A current of wind swept underneath the man’s jacket and chilled him to the bone. He didn’t shiver for some odd reason. 

“I’ve had, like, half a bottle of vodka and I’m still cold. Why is it so cold?” 

Tommy stopped clattering on his keyboard. “Will, are you drunk?” 

Fundy’s voice echoed from the phone: “Oh HELL Yeah! Will’s drunk!” 

“Fundy I didn’t know you were here!” Will said, leaning down into his cell phone as if he could see him through the call. 

“Me and the boys are playing Jackbox. WOOO!” Fundy hollered. His mic cut off at the end and the whole call laughed. Not Wilbur though. 

“Fundy’s Drunk,” Tubbo explained. “So are Philza and Punz. Not me and Tommy, though.” 

Will hardly heard him. “I’m gonna turn on my cameras!” 

He fumbled with the buttons on his phone as Punz made fun of him for saying ‘cameras’. He heard a noise and then his screen showed a picture of his face. 

“Look lads, It’s me! Here I am…” The man made faces into the screen, puffing up his cheeks and lips and scrunching up his chin.

“Punz is streaming, ya know,” said Tommy. The man kept making faces. 

Tommy suddenly gasped. “Wilbur, don’t dox yourself! Don’t show any street signs.” 

“I’ve been walking for hoursss; I’m nowhere near my house. It’s fine if stream sees things.” He pointed the camera towards the lighthouse in the distance. “You know where I am, Tommy?” 

“Ummm. Oh, yeah! Isn’t that where we met up that one time?” 

“Yeah!”

“Oh cool.”

Fundy suddenly spoke up. “Wilbur, I will pay you 50 dollars to go skinny dipping right now.” 

“50 dollars?” Wilbur slurred. _Oh no, I’m getting drunker._

“Yeah, 50 dollars!” Came the confirmation.

“Why do you want Wilbur to go skinny dipping? That’s a little WeirdChamp,” Punz said. 

“It’ll be funnyyy!! C’mon!” 

Wilbur was already taking his shirt off. Punz yelped and minimized the discord call so stream couldn’t see. He barely got it done in time. 

“WILBUR YOU TWAT! You almost got me in so much trouble!!” He frantically checked TOS to see if he was safe. 

“I’m going swimming!” 

“I can _see_ you Wilbur. Turn the camera off,” said Tommy. 

The man didn’t answer, just kept undressing. Tommy grumbled in annoyance and switched tabs to give the man privacy. 

Wilbur stripped down of everything except his underwear. The sensation of cold was stronger than ever- piercing through his mental haze ever so slightly. The sea chose that moment to gift Wilbur with another breeze, strong enough that it pushed the man’s hair and crept down his spine. He felt his arm and leg hairs stand up on end and goosebumps prickled his shoulders. 

“Will? Are you there?” Tommy asked from the phone. The boy worriedly typed something into Google. His frown deepened when he saw the answer. _5 Degrees C_.

“Will-” he paused for a moment then muted himself to every participant except Wilbur, so only he could hear. “It’s way too cold where you are, and you're very drunk. You gotta go home.”

The man did not hear him. Or if he did hear him, he didn’t respond. 

He looked out into the night and giggled to himself, putting his phone down on top of his discarded clothes. He pulled off his socks and felt his feet sink into the soft sand. There wasn’t much actual ‘beach’; Only a few feet of sand between concrete and ocean. He positioned his head so that he was looking down and couldn’t see any of the buildings in his peripherals. _From this angle it looks just like home._ The man thought wistfully. The home he was referring to was a wood cabin in Oregon that he and his family used to visit in the summers, when he was younger. He hadn’t been there in years though. He wondered why he thought of it as home, when he had only been there a few times, and he hadn’t seen or even thought about the place in forever. _A drunk mind thinks strangely._

He stumbled forward on the ground. The uneven sand posed a challenge to his shot coordination, and he almost fell at multiple moments. He smiled when that happened; at himself and at the world. _I’m a trapeze artist. The beach is my rope and the ocean is my net. I’ll fall and be caught. She’ll catch me._

Wilbur finally got to the water’s edge. Little waves lapped at his ankles but didn’t touch them. _You’re not tall enough, little guys. Here._ The man stepped forward into the biting water. His toes were almost instantly numb. _Now you can reach._

He took step after step further out, wrapping his arms around his chest instinctively, although it did little to nothing to warm him up. The water felt strange against his legs. It splashed at his upper thighs. Sea spray brushed his belly. Alcohol overtook him and he slipped forward. 

Consciousness left the man. For a second. 

Then he was awake again as water hit his cheeks and nose. He choked and reared back like he had been slapped. He lurched backwards with flailing arms and felt the ground slip out from underneath him. The tide pulled him toward the shore a little until he felt the sand again. He wanted to be standing but all he could manage was a kneel.

There he was in the water not six feet from the shore and sand. Kneeling with his arms out in front of him, elbows locked. They were keeping his upper body propped up. His hands were all that stopped his head from careening underwater. 

A wave swelled past his chest. The man willed himself to stand but found he couldn’t move. He was passing out.

“Help,” He rasped. Then again: “Help!” This time much louder and clearer. But it was no use, the place was just as empty as it was a moment ago. 

He swayed in the water. When the waves pushed and pulled he moved with them, not really given a choice. 

The panic of the moment faded. Wilbur looked down and saw the sea a few inches from his face. He couldn’t help but watch with fascination the way the water coursed past his upper arms and shoulders. 

A tide of Vodka hit him in the head. The man fought to see as his eyes blinked deeply and slowly. 

Between slow and heavy blinks he felt a hand on his chest that was not his. 

He squealed in surprise and down looked at himself, but couldn’t see the source of the intrusion. 

“Hello?” He murmured. “Someone there?” 

A long moment with nothingness and silence. Adrenaline faded from the boy’s system and he felt his head sinking downward. A pair of hands pushed him upright. 

They were dark and ghostly and had nobody attached to them. Just a pair of hands. Their texture was the same as the sand and their silhouettes were very unclear. Still, Wilbur felt sure that they were hands. 

He shrieked, but the noise quickly trailed off as his elbows lost their lock and his face was submerged into the water. 

The man saw nothing and tasted salt. The hands returned, this time with arms as well, and pushed his face and head into the air. The man gasped and coughed. 

“Who.. who are you? Who’s there?” 

In the corner of his eye he could see the vague figure of a being, but could make out no details. The hands disappeared again and his whole body went under. 

Was it 30 second? Was it a minute? Was it more? He opened his eyes under the ocean and something happened. The darkness that poured from the midnight sky and coated the earth was changing into a light. It moved from the very far reach of what he could see and spread out to the rest of his vision. It unfolded into the earth like an eruption and he saw it everywhere. He felt the hands and they gripped his arms and chest, and dragged him above. They dragged him up. He breathed air. 

It was the middle of the day, now. Or at least the world was lit up like it was. 

Wilbur took a deep breath. _The air’s fresh._ It was unusual for London, that’s for sure. Daylight broke in from a dense cover of clouds. The water was clear, and the man could see his whole body resting in the sand. A fish swam past- or maybe the boy misremembered that detail, he wasn’t sure. And he thought he heard a piano play. 

Importantly, he was warm. Very warm. Although there was no sun in sight the water was pleasant and he could feel his back prickling with heat. It was so comforting that Wilbur smiled and sighed. 

He ran a wrist over his chest and was surprised when he felt the pair of hands still there. They created a steady pressure, and reminded him of the way his mum used to hold him when he was a baby. Now they looked very human-like, unlike the unfamiliar outlines of before. 

He grabbed their wrists and trailed down them until he could feel and see a pair of arms. 

“Now,” he began playfully, “Whose hands are these?” He grinned dopily and looked up. 

The smile wiped on his face instantly. He cried out in shock, his hand flying up to his face and covering his open mouth as tears rolled down his cheeks. Water flooded from his eyes almost unnaturally; it blurred his vision and some distant part of him hoped it would give him reprise from the creature before him- but no luck. He saw clearly, as if the scene were not just right in front of him but ingrained into his mind. He did not blink, close his eyes, or look away. The man probably couldn’t have even if he wanted to. 

The being could not be described. 

“WILBUR!” Screamed a voice. The daylight shattered and night poured in through the sky. The woman disappeared as if she had never been there. He was suddenly freezing again and he felt his muscles and mind go lax. His arms plunged into the sand and found enough purchase to hold him up.

“Wilbur, where are you?” The voice sounded panicky. Wilbur recognized it.

“I’m here!” he replied, faintly. 

“Wilbur! Are you there?” concern laced Tommy’s voice and fear infected his tone. 

“I’m here!” Wilbur cried again. The boy must have heard him this time, because he stopped running and scanned the sea. 

“Wilbur!?” He shouted one last time, before spotting him kneeling in the water. 

“Oh God, Oh my God man, it’s so freezing,” he spoke as he quickly made his way across the sand. “Wilbur get out of the water!” 

“I can’t. I’m falling asleep…” His head slipped towards the waves again and fell under. This time, it was Tommy’s hands who pulled him out. The boy had waded into the ocean and was half-carrying Wilbur from his shoulders. He lugged him to shore. 

“I saw Saint Mary! I saw Saint Mary! I saw her.” He felt his feet on the sandy ground and cool wind whip around his body. His knees buckled. 

“You’re off your head, that’s what.” The boy grumbled. Then he got a better look at Wilbur and his eyes widened with fear. “Oh God, Will, your lips have gone blue! We need to get you home.” 

“I saw her, I saw her!” He insisted. “She held me up out of the water. She did! She saved me, she saved me.” 

“Wilbur I reckon you're hallucinating from the cold. Let’s get you to my place, c’mon. Yours is too far away.” He hastily tried to dress the man, pulling up his pants with great difficulty. 

“I was dying. She saved me. She saved me, don’t you see!” He tried to shake Tommy by the collarbone for emphasis, but his fingers did not move much. He got distracted by this and tried to form a fist, a little worried when he couldn’t.

“Tommy, why can’t me fingers move?” 

“BecAUSE YOU’RE ON DEATH’S DOOR, YOU TWaT!!!” The boy snapped. “Now, focus! Stay awake. Help me get you up,” He heaved Wilbur to a standing position, then tucked his head underneath Will’s shoulder, supporting the man’s weight. He grunted from the effort. “Why do you gotta be so bloody tall?” he mumbled under his breath. “C’mon now man, left, right, left, right…” 

They made their way up the concrete steps and into the street. The lone dock worker who Wilbur had spotted earlier stopped what he was doing to stare at the pair. He was too far away to see them clearly, but if he was closer he would have blanched at the sight. Wilbur really did look half-dead. His lips and fingertips were turning blue, his skin was pale and sickly, his eyes were sunken and hollow, heavy dark bags resting under them. His hair was matted to his forehead with saltwater and stress. His hands trembled and his body shuddered. Tommy only caught a few glimpses of it in the low light. 

At the crosswalk the boy embraced the man and rubbed his back vigorously, trying to put any heat he had into the poor fellow. He breathed hot air onto his neck, and Wilbur laughed at him. 

“Don’t you laugh at me! I’m trying to save you. You’re about to pop off.” The boy’s voice cracked. He looked up at the man, whose eyes were glassy. If he heard he didn’t acknowledge it. 

“I saw Saint Mary,” he said instead. The words shot spikes of fear through Tommy and he whirled around, picked Wilbur up piggy-back style, and started running through the streets. He wasn’t moving super swiftly because Wilbur was heavy and unwieldy, but it was faster than just walking. They went down a few blocks and turned a corner. 

“My house isn’t far, Will. I live really close to here. You know that!” he panted. 

No reply. 

“Will, stay awake!” the words were desperate. “Tell me about Saint Mary!! How do you know it was her?” 

At the sound of the name the man stirred a little. “I’ll tell you somethinggg. I looked her right in the eyes and I still couldn’t tell you what she looks like.”

“Try! Try to describe it.” 

“There waas a lot of light.” 

“Uh huh,” the boy turned another corner. 

“She was scary.”

“Scary? I thought she was supposed to be a nice lady.” 

“She was!”

“That doesn’t make sense, man,” he replied. He was trying to get Will to argue so he would stay conscious. 

Will didn’t answer for a long while. 

“Why do you think it’s Saint Mary and not someone else?” Tommy tried again. 

A pause. Then, “I was wrong. It wasn’t Saint Mary. It was the devil.” 

“What?” 

“It was the devil. Only the devil would keep me alive. That place looked so nice...” 

“Oh, Will,” the tone was fond and sad. 

Tommy’s apartment came into view. “MUM!” he shouted from the street. “MUM! COME HELP ME!!” A gentle looking lady with the same blond hair as Tommy appeared in the doorway. She got one look at Will and immediately rushed to help him. The two of them carried the man up the steps and into the living room, then laid Wilbur on their couch. He was asleep before they even lowered him all the way down.

They warmed him up. The boy got blankets from a cupboard and wrapped them around him and Wilbur. He nestled tightly into the man’s arms and rubbed his shoulders and legs. Yes, it looked a little odd, and his mother shot him a look from the kitchen, but he did not care! This was his friend and he almost died. Motherinnit got a portable heater out of a closet and set it up facing them, then she made tea. By the time it was ready Will’s skin was less pale and his lips were less blue. He woke slightly when she appeared before him with a mug. 

“Here you go, dear,” she said. Tommy took it from her hands and urged the man to take a sip, which he did. 

“Kind lady,” he murmured. 

“He’s very drunk,” Tommy explained in a soft voice, as Wilbur dozed off again. His mother nodded understandingly. 

“What happened?” she asked, wanting the details.

“Drank a lot of vodka then decided to go swimming in the bloody North Sea.”

“Don’t say bloody,” she berated.

“Ok. Can he stay here for tonight?”

“Only if you promise not to curse for a week.” 

“I promise. What, like you're gonna kick him out if I didn’t promise?” He eyed her with disbelief. 

“No, I wouldn’t have, but you need to curse less.” 

The lady walked away and Tommy grumbled. 

“What was that?” She asked over her shoulder. 

“Nothing.” 

The two of them established that Wilbur didn’t need to go to the emergency room or anything. Tommy’s mum asked if they needed anything, if they were okay there for the night, ect. The boy only asked for her to go grab his phone so he could tell everyone Will was okay. They were worried about the man. 

She obliged, then retired for the night. 

_Will is safe,_ he typed into the discord chat. _Now he is, anyways._

_What happened?_ It was Fundy. 

The boy almost told him that he was an idiot and it was all his fault Wilbur almost died, but resignedly admitted to himself that that wasn’t true. Or it was only partially true. Plus, he remembered that Fundy was super drunk as well. _Real sick of alcohol right now,_ he thought to himself. 

_He went swimming and it was too cold. But he’s indoors now._

_I hope he ok,_ replied Fundy. Tubbo expressed similar concern. Punz was probably asleep. 

_He’ll be okay._ the boy typed. 

Fundy sent him porn. 

_GO TO BED, FUNDY!!_ the boy angrily replied. He was starting to have a real distaste for booze- which says a lot, coming from a 16 year old boy. The boy took a deep inhale, and then tossed his phone to the side. Exhale. He settled in beside Wilbur and felt the man’s chest move up and down with breath. The boy fell asleep shortly.

\---

Wilbur ended up being fine. He recovered in a week and barely remembered the incident, probably due to his drunken state. He had a massive hangover for a few days, though.

Tommy was a bit more affected than Wilbur was. He thought about the events frequently for a month or so- then forgot about it as well. But sometimes, when Will got really tired and eyebags showed up on his face, the boy would suddenly get a flashback to that shivering, freezing night. And sickly blue lips. He was alright, though. It just made him appreciate his friends a little more. And he was never embarrassed to hug Wilbur. 

Once, when he was explaining to Will what happened that night, he asked him about Saint Mary. 

“Who?” was the reply. 

“Jesus’s mum, you daft!” said Tommy. Three years of Catholic school had served him well. 

“Ohhh right. Wait, why are you asking about that?” 

“Because when I found you out that night in the water you kept trying to tell me that you had seen her.”

“Oh, geez. Was I really that gone?”

“I… guess so.” A pair of glassy eyes appeared from his memories. “So you don’t remember seeing anybody?” 

“Nope. Sorry.” 

_They must have just been drunk ramblings, then,_ The boy thought. 

“Hey… did you say ‘that night’?” Wilbur asked. 

“Yeah. What about it?” 

“It’s funny,” He looked down curiously. “I thought it happened in the day.” 

“No, it was like 3 A.M when you went out there.”

“Huh.” was all he said. 

And that was the end of that conversation. They played Bedwars with Schlatt and Tubbo, and forgot about it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! leave a comment if you did <3


End file.
